Transparent Answer
by xiangli
Summary: High School AU: Jean really wanted that desk in the back of the room, next to the window. But a certain dark-haired boy with freckles just had to take it first.


**Based on ****_Transparent Answer_****, a song sung by IA. Music by Shizen no Teki-P (Jin). I don't own the thing.**

* * *

Another school year had arrived and I had decided that I, Jean Kirschtein, would get the seat in the back, next to the window.

All of the classrooms in Trost High were similar, after all. There were five rows of five desks each, and the best seat was obviously the one in the back, right next to the window.

Of course, it was just my luck that my mom held me back to get breakfast before leaving for school, so I came later than I intended to. It was just my luck that the seat that I had wished for had been taken by some guy I didn't know.

Dammit.

I reluctantly sat down in the second best seat, the one right next to my dream desk. The bastard had already started daydreaming, staring out the window with a wistful smile on his face. I wished that was me. Missing breakfast would have been worth it, thanks a lot, mom.

I sighed in defeat and decided that next year, next year for sure, I would sit there and daydream all I wanted.

* * *

Something like a week, maybe a month had passed. We received our first test back.

I, being the one and only Jean "fucking awesome" Kirschtein, got 100% like usual. I made sure to note that I had to brag to Jaeger about it later, considering that he probably got a 75 or something shitty.

I felt someone staring at me, which turned out to be the kid sitting in the seat that I had wanted.

Marco Bodt, if I remembered correctly. The oldest kid in our class, dark hair and freckles all over the place. That wistful smile of his, similar to when he stared out that window, was gazing at my test paper.

I held it defensively. "What do you want?"

"Oh, sorry," Marco said, scratching his head. "I just wish I got higher scores..."

_Well, maybe if you weren't daydreaming all through class, you'd get somewhere closer._ I tried to sneak a look at his test, I blinked in surprise: There wasn't a test on his desk, just a paper crane.

"So... what did you get?" I asked hesitantly.

"Er..." Marco laughed nervously. "Nowhere close to yours. 40 or so."

Ouch.

"I'm pretty sure that the teacher will let me retake it though," he continued. "That is, I really hope so..."

I stared at him for a moment before saying, "Maybe I can help you a little."

His eyes brightened. "Really?"

"Y-Yeah, I mean, if you want my help."

"Thanks a lot!" he cheered. "I thought that you weren't a nice guy, you know, you don't seem to smile a whole lot and you don't talk to anyone, well, except Eren, but you guys are always fighting and -" He stopped abruptly. "Um, I'm saying too much, sorry."

"It's fine," I said. It was true enough.

"A-anyway, let's meet up in the library after school, then?"

I nodded, watching him stand up and leave the classroom.

* * *

The meetings in the library happened pretty frequently, and I found myself growing closer to a certain Marco Bodt.

Honestly, he wasn't a bad guy at all. Kind of a dork, but a nice kind of dork. The only thing I had against him was the desk thing, and admittedly, that was my mom's fault.

Thing was, his test scores remained rather low. He seemed to be understanding things, even the day before a test, but his highest score was a 78. It was depressing for both him and me.

"Say," Marco murmured one day, not even turning away from the window. "Do you think my test scores would ever get better?"

I stared at his back for a bit, not sure how to answer. "Well," I said finally. "If you keep trying, I'm sure you can do it."

He was folding his latest test, a 53 this time, into yet another paper crane. "You know, if you fold a thousand paper cranes, they're sure to give you luck. At least, that's what my grandma said."

"How many have you folded?"

"A lot. About 800, I think..." He finished the crane. "Maybe, if I keep folding them, I'll actually get a better score. Maybe an 80."

"I bet you'll get 100, at that point," I said confidently. "Could you show me how to make them? I'll help you."

"Yeah, sure... Let's just use the test for now, okay?" Marco slid his chair closer to my desk. "First, you'd want to make the paper into a square..."

I tried to follow his instructions carefully, but the crane I made was much sloppier than his precisely folded one. He laughed a little.

"If only my test scores were as good as my folding skills," Marco said, his laugh still echoing in my ears.

"You just need to practice, just like you folded," I replied.

* * *

The school year dragged on.

Marco's scores were as bad as ever, and I could tell, somehow, that he was starting to lose hope.

At some point, I had passed by our classroom on the way to the library. I had some reference books that I had wanted to get. But I had also seen Marco out of the corner of my eye.

Strange noises were coming out of the classroom, and it took me a moment to realize that they were coming out of him.

Were those... tears?

Knowing very well that I couldn't deal with crying people very well - in most cases, I made it all worse - I hurried over to the library.

After all, when I returned to the room for my next class, he seemed fine. The tears had stopped, and he was gazing out the window again, the same wistful smile taking over his face.

* * *

The day after that, Marco wasn't at school.

He didn't return after something like a week, maybe a month.

And each day that he was absent, my worries grew.

Rumors began to spread, perhaps he had a bad disease of some sort, maybe his parents didn't want him to fail anymore, or...

I didn't want to think about the last option.

* * *

The principal of Trost High School called me to his office one day, giving me Marco's locker number and combination.

"He was your friend, right?" he had asked me. "I think you'd want to see what's in there."

I opened the locker, and out flooded hundreds of paper cranes. Cranes of many colors, seemingly flying out of their prison and into my arms.

The last things left in the locker were a single crane and a piece of paper.

I took a look at the paper first. It was the last test that Marco had taken before disappearing.

Score: 56. At the bottom was Marco's familiar handwriting, a note to me.

_Dear Jean,_

_I got to a thousand._

_I'm sorry._

I clenched my fist around the test, listening to it crumple under the force of my hand. Then, gently picked up the final crane in the locker.

It wasn't as neatly folded as the ones that had fallen to the ground around me. I carelessly threw the crumpled test to join the cranes, and gently took the messy-looking crane apart.

It was the test that I had folded, the one that he had taught me to fold cranes with. A red 100 was circled at the top.

* * *

A bouquet of flowers was set on Marco's desk for the remainder of the school year, people often changing the flowers to continue respecting him.

It was finally released to the students at Trost High that Marco Bodt had unfortunately committed suicide, having jumped off the roof of the school.

People whispered about it, saying it was such an unfortunate thing to happen. But I tried to think optimistically for a change: Perhaps he had grown wings, just like the paper cranes he had tried to fold.

And the year came to the end. I, Jean "fucking awesome" Kirschtein, somehow graduated at the top of my year (and smiled smugly at a certain Eren Jaeger once the news was released).

I took a final look at the desk in the back of the room, the one next to the window. The one that I used to see, every day, and watch a dark-haired and freckled boy smile wistfully at the sky.

Perhaps I didn't need that seat next year.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!**

**Reviews sound nice, so please review!**


End file.
